


A Handful of Stars

by lunarspacefox



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Almyra (Fire Emblem), Bullying, Dimiclaude is there but only a little bit at the end, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Claude's parents, because if Intsys isn't gonna do it then I will dammit, i wrote this in like 3 days, this is mostly about Claude's backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22749460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarspacefox/pseuds/lunarspacefox
Summary: Claude has seen snow three times in his life (well, technically two, but who's counting really).
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 70





	A Handful of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Alright listen. I know I have another fic that hasn't been updated in...a while. But I got inspired after playing the Ashen Wolves DLC since Intsys seems allergic to giving Claude backstory or sharing any Almyra lore. It drives me nuts, since Claude is my favorite so I made some stuff up.
> 
> When it comes to the second time Claude has seen snow, I based it off of an interaction you can have with Cyril post-timeskip. He can apparently see things better than other people can, like for example he can see the enemy coming before anyone else does. So I made it an Almyran Thing to have better eyesight. Which makes sense since using bows while riding dragons is their thing.
> 
> If something doesn't make sense, let me know. I would love to hear feedback for this.

The first time that Claude ever saw snow was in a book. It was when he was seven years old, sitting in a dinghy library that only had a few shelves of manuscripts held together by string. He could only sort of read them. He mostly flipped through to look at the illustrations and see if he could read the bigger words.

He turned the page, very carefully just as the old librarian told him to. He focused on the large illustration in the center of the page. It was a black and white picture (well, mostly white) of a bunny sitting in the forest. Except it didn’t look like any forest he’d seen before. The ground was all white, with the bunny sitting in what looked like sand. There was white on rocks and leafless trees and bushes in the background. The title above the picture read “ **A Fxxxxxxx Hare in the Snow** ”.

He had no idea what that F word was (he knew there was an H in there, but it was in a weird spot surrounded by letters that didn’t make sense to him) and he knew the word hare, they had those in Almyra...but it was the last word that was really interesting to him.

Snow. It was a short, easy to read word. If he was saying it right, it was fun to say too. It made his tongue twinkle. He repeated it over and over to himself. “Snow...snooow...ssnnoooww…”

Snow had to be the white stuff in the picture, right? That’s the only thing the hare was anywhere near in the picture...unless they called forests “snow” in that weird Furg-hus place. Maybe Mom would know? She was from somewhere else, maybe she knew what it meant. He stuck his thumb on the page with the picture and closed the pages. He, very carefully, picked up the “book” and carried it through the library. He was already one foot out the door when an old hand grabbed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry boy, but the book stays here.”

Claude gave a small pout, but he sort of understood. Books were important. He handed the book to the librarian. The man gave the pages a once over, making sure the child hadn’t ruined any of the words or pictures. Books and information on Fodlan were few and far between in Almyra. Not because books weren’t valued, but most books about Fodlan were thrown away or outright destroyed as animosity towards Fodlan grew hotter and hotter.

The old man watched the boy walk out into the street, and he watched a mother in the street pull her daughter closer as the boy passed. It was a small thing, the boy probably didn’t even see it. The old man sighed. A boy like him, who reads books about the enemies because he was genuinely curious, who thinks before he speaks if he even speaks at all, who doesn’t like to play outside with other kids because if he gets too excited his Crest shows and the other kids start bullying him....he would always be an outsider here. Just like the old librarian himself.

Claude walked back to the small inn he and his parents were holed up in for the night. The next morning, they’d be on their way out like every other place they’d stayed at before. He pretends not to notice the innkeeper watching him as he walks past to their room.

His mother is polishing her blade in a chair by the window when she hears the door open. She looks up and smiles as her son enters with that thoughtful expression she sees in her husband all the time.

“Hello, darling.” She goes back to wiping her sword down as she speaks, “What’s on your mind?”

“Mom, what’s snow?”

“Snow?” She almost laughs, looking back up at her ever-curious little boy. “Now who are you talking to that’s mentioning snow here?”

“No one. I read about it.”

“Read it?” She tilts her head just a bit, mapping out where in this little village he would have access to books about snow. Oh, right. That old scholar from Fodlan. He would probably have those. “You went to the library, didn’t you?” Her boy nods, and she shakes her head. “No matter where we go, you always manage to find something to read. You really are your father’s son.”

Claude tilts his head. “...is that a bad thing?”

“No. Just the opposite, actually.” She sets her blade to the side, up against the wall. She gestures for him to come closer. He comes over and she lifts him up onto her lap. She pokes his nose. “It makes you special, and almost too smart for your own good.”

Claude gives her a smile, cruelly melting his own dear mother’s heart. She manages to recover and clears her throat. “So, you wanna know what snow is?” Claude nods and she looks up as the gears turn in her head. “It’s...well in some places it gets very, very cold. If it gets cold enough and it rains, it’ll turn rain into soft ice crystals. That’s snow.”

Claude looks out the window as he listens, processing the information. He’s never been somewhere so cold that ice falls from the sky! “...what does it feel like? Does it hurt?”

His mother shakes her head. “No, no. Not unless you pick up a bunch and throw it at someone. It’s sort of like sand. Except you don’t need any water to hold it all together because it’s-”

“-already wet?”

“Exactly, my dear. And the good part is that if it gets too warm, it all melts away.”

“It goes away?” His mother nods. He looks down, trying to even imagine how cold, wet sand could just disappear. “...I wish sand would go away sometimes.”

“Me too, darling,” his mother sighs, “...especially when it gets in your underpants.”

“Eww, mom!”

“What? It’s uncomfortable!”

The second time Claude saw snow was actually not too long afterwards. It might’ve only been a few weeks actually. They had left the small village and had ventured northwest. Like usual, Claude didn’t really know where they were going and they had settled into an inn at yet another small village. It was colder here, and Claude was sleeping between his mom and dad.

But he couldn’t sleep. Earlier that day, he had tried to play pirates with another kid at the urging of his mom. Claude had always liked pirates. He sometimes liked to pretend that his mom and dad were the pirate King and Queen, and that they were travelling to find buried treasure.

While Claude and another boy dressed in a dinghy maroon shirt were having a stick-sword battle, a third kid wearing green was sitting in the dirt, leaning against the wall of what was probably his house (he never learned these kids names). The kid in green groaned “Maaan, I'm hungry!”

The maroon kid stops the battle (which Claude was definitely going to win, by the way) and looks at the green kid. “Yeah? What’re you thinking?” If Claude had to guess, the green kid was the one in charge and the maroon kid was his lackey.

“...I was thinking…” the green kid sits up and smiles with one front tooth. “...we could snag something from old man Rusta’s stand.”

“Oooh...yeah!”, maroon kid turns to Claude, “You want an apple or somethin’?”

Claude shrugs. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but it _had_ been a while since he had a nice, crisp apple. “I guess...but I don’t have any money.”

The kid in green just gave Claude a look that said _Are you stupid or something?_ “We don’t need any money. We’re just gonna take it.”

“...but that’s stealing.” Claude argued. The green kid and the maroon kid looked at each other, then laughed.

“You’re so dumb!” the green kid giggled, “Rasta’s so dumb and he’s practically blind, he won’t even notice that anything’s gone.”

“...apples are hard to find here though, right?” Claude frowns.

“Yeah, so?” the maroon kid crosses his arms, judging Claude in only the way a peer who thinks they’re smarter than you can.

The green kid jumps up. “C’mon. He’s just a coward.”

Claude’s heart drops. There were alot of mean insults that you could call someone in Almyra, but one of the worst had to be being called a coward. Most Almyrans prided themselves on their courage, even if that courage meant running headfirst into a death sentence. If someone accused you of being a coward, that’s grounds for a fight to the death in the streets.

...But Claude was seven years old, and he didn’t wanna fight to the death. So he threw his stick-sword to the ground. “No, I’ll do it!”

The green kid smiles. “That’s what I thought! Now follow me.” The green kid led them through the streets to the market. There weren’t many stands up, and the only people who were really out and shopping were mothers buying whatever little groceries they could. The kids huddled behind an empty cart. Their target was a small fruit stand about 20 feet ahead. Beside the cart was an old man wearing dirty robes, carving something out of a small block of wood with a dull knife.

The green kid turns to Claude and the maroon kid. He speaks lowly, like they weren’t out in the open where other noises would probably muffle their voices. “Okay. We’re all gonna run in and grab as many apples as we can. Then we all run in different directions. He can’t catch all of us.”

Claude tilts his head. “...why don’t we just distract him?”

“With what, genius?” the maroon kid taunts.

“I dunno...one of us could go talk to him or pretend to fall and hurt ourselves or something…”

The green kid makes that face again, “There’s no way he won’t notice, but since you volunteered the idea, you can be the distraction.”

Claude sighs. He guessed that was fair enough. He gets up and slowly makes his way over to the stand, his mind running for something to distract Rasta. In the back of his mind, a voice kept screaming at him that what he was doing was wrong and that mom would be so mad if she found out, but...he had to prove he wasn’t a coward.

Before he knew it, he was right in front of Rasta. The old man looked up and gave Claude a smile. “...Hello, young man. Is there something you need?”

“Uh…” Claude’s mind drew a blank. His eyes darted to the boxes, where the boys were watching and waiting. He had to do something! Rasta tilted his head.

“Where is your mother, young man? Are you here to run an errand for her?”

Clade shook his head. “N-no...uh…” Looking back on it, Claude cringes at all the possible things he could’ve done. He could’ve cried about not having a mother, or said that he was lost, or even that his dog fell in a well and he needed help getting her out. He could’ve done anything other than what he did. Of all things, Claude stuck out his hand and summoned that tingly feeling from deep inside himself. The bright yellow crescent moon shape appeared above his hand, and Rasta’s mouth dropped. “...mister, what is this?”

Now, Claude sort of knew what his Crest was at that age. His mother explained it to him as proof that Claude was special and that he was her son. That was all the explanation he needed at that age. He also knew that other people didn’t have Crests, and that it was strange to see someone with a Crest. Instinctually, he was doing what he knew would draw the most attention to himself.

Rasta took a deep breath. He covered Claude’s small hand with his own large, wrinkled one. The Crest disappeared. “Now boy…” Rasta spoke quietly, but his tone was deeply serious. Like the tone his dad had whenever Claude was in trouble. “...you shouldn’t show that to strangers.”

That’s something his mom said too. The only explanation she gave was that “other people would be jealous of how special he was.” Claude was too curious for his own good though, and tilted his head as he asked the question that always got him in trouble.

“...why?”

The old man sighed, and he opened his mouth to speak. But just as he took a breath to explain, multiple thumping noises came from their left. They both turned their head to look, and there were the two boys with their arms full of apples and even more at their feet. Rasta stood. “What are you two doing?!” the old man bellowed.

There was a second long pause as the boys looked at Claude, then back up at Rasta. They dropped the apples and held up their hands. “We’re sorry!” the kid in green spoke, his voice high and doing his best to sound innocent, “It’s not our fault! He put us up to it!” the kid in green points to Claude.

Claude’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped. That traitor, that... _coward!_ Before he could defend himself, the maroon kid speaks up “We told him that this was wrong, but he threatened to hurt us with his weird magic moon thing!”

“Th-that’s not true!” Claude pleaded, looking up at Rasta. “It was their idea, they didn’t even know…”

“He’s lying!” the green kid yells over Claude, and Rasta brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He sighs deeply.

“You two, go home, and I won’t tell your mothers.” The kids nod and run off, shooting glares at Claude. Rasta turns back to Claude. “As for you, son…” Claude looks up, hating this look of disappointment from Rasta. It was frustrating, and tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. “...do not ever show that to anyone. You never know who would try to hurt you if you showed them that.”

Claude just nods, Rasta’s kindly old man demeanor now replaced with menace. He wanted to run away, to run to the safety of his mother. “...I do not want to catch you trying to steal from me, or anyone, ever again. Do you understand?” Claud nods again, and takes one small step back. “...go on, now.” Claude turns and runs off, rushing back to where his mom was.

When he finally found his mother at a weapons stand, he clung to her skirt and cried. He wouldn’t tell her what happened, in case she was disappointed in him too. She comforted him all the same. They went back to their inn room, had dinner once his dad came back, and went to sleep without another mention of the incident.

But Claude didn’t sleep. His mind kept going back to the kids and how they had betrayed him. It wasn’t fair, and it made him so mad. He hadn’t even really done anything, and he got yelled at for it. Well, not yelled at but...it _felt_ like he had been yelled at. And then Rasta was so scary...why couldn’t he show his Crest to anyone? What was wrong with it? Didn’t it just mean he’s special?

He had so much pent up energy, he couldn’t just sit there. He squirmed from between his parents and got up to go sit at the small window alcove in the room. Whenever he felt sad or upset, he always liked to look up at the stars. They always twinkled the same no matter what was going on in Claude’s life. It comforted him. Except when he went to look up at the night sky, clouds blocked his view. But, oddly enough, there were still twinkles.

The twinkles were falling from the sky. They were small, but they were there. Were the stars falling? He watched a bit more, following one twinkle as it fell past the window and onto the ground. It rested there for a moment before disappearing. Claude was befuddled. What was going on? It fell like rain...except it wasn’t raining, and it was falling gently.

Then it clicked.

This was snow. He was watching the snowfall! His frown of confusion slowly grew into a smile. It was like looking at tiny stars. He had to show mom! He ran over to the bed and climbed back on, shaking his mother’s shoulder and whispering in her ear.

“Mom! Momma! Wake up! It’s snowing!”

His mom groaned and turned her head to look at Claude, eyes too heavy with sleep to open completely and her voice craggy. “...what is it, dear…?”

“It’s snowing, mom! You gotta see it!”

“...dear, I don’t think it’s snowing. You were probably dreaming…”

“No! I just went to the window and it’s snowing! Please, come look!” He starts pulling on his mother’s arm as he crawls back off the bed. His mother, very reluctantly, sits up. She’s practically pulled out of bed and follows him to the window. He climbs onto the alcove and points out the window, where the tiny stars were still floating down to the ground. “Look, look!”

When his mom looked out the window, she stared for a moment. Then she sighed. “...I don’t see any snow, Claude…”

“What?” he looks out the window, then back to his mother, “But...it’s right there! It’s falling right now…”

“Darling…” His mother sighs, taking Claude’s hand and leading him away from the window, “...I don’t know what you see, but I think it’s too warm for it to snow.”

“...then...what…?” He looks back to the window, second-guessing himself. He had never seen snow fall before...so maybe he was mistaken. But then...what are the small twinkles he’s seeing?

His mother gives a small, tired smile as she kneels down to Claude’s level. “You really want to see snow, huh?”

Claude gives a small pout, looking down at his feet. “...maybe…”

“Well, maybe one day we’ll go somewhere you can see real snow for yourself.”

Claude lifts his face to meet his mother’s, eyes sparkling like the little stars outside. “Really? And will you tell me when we’re going there?” His mother nods, and he gives a little smile. “Okay.”

“...Now will you come back to bed so momma can go back to her dreams?”

“...I’m not sleepy, though…”

The third time Claude saw snow was years later. Years after he’d last seen snow, and years after he’d left Almyra. Unfortunately, he and his parents were never able to travel anywhere where snow would be guaranteed. Claude learned that snow in Almyra was a rarity, and you were lucky if you even saw tiny snow crystals like Claude did.

He didn’t have much luck after he’d left Almyra either. The Leicester Alliance was still too warm for snow, as was Garreg Mach. It got cold, certainly. But something about the climate was too warm for snow. He figured all the cold was kept at bay by the mountains that crossed the country. He’d spoken to the students in the Blue Lions. Apparently they not only got snow, but they got layers upon layers of snow that would remain on the ground for 4-5 moons. Wearing multiple layers of furs was practically mandatory to survive the cold. Although it sounded intimidating, Claude’s curious nature tingled at the thought of seeing all that snow.

He resolved then and there that he would one day travel to Faerghus during the snow season and see it for himself. He, unfortunately, wouldn’t get the opportunity until after the war in Fodlan was settled. The closest he ever got to Faerghus (besides at Garreg Mach) was in Ailell. That wasn’t exactly cold.

But finally, finally, the day came that he was to travel to Fhirdiad for a peace meeting with King Dimitri and his entourage escorting him and his men. They were planning to sign a treaty in view of the entire council in Fhirdiad. He was given heavy fur lined coats and gloves as they began to cross the mountains. His excitement grew more and more until they stopped to camp for the night.

As he gathered food from one of the campfires, he overheard one of the knights talking about snow tonight. His excitement peaked, but he obviously kept his composure as he returned to his large tent. The night went on, nothing out of the ordinary, and Claude went to bed.

But, much like when he was a child, he couldn’t seem to sleep. He wasn’t usually this giddy about something...hell, he wasn’t usually this giddy about _anything_ that didn’t involve some sort of scheme. But that night that he saw those small stars falling from the sky...it’s something he looks back on fondly. It was a magical moment for little Claude. Being able to stick his hand out and actually touch the little stars? Having everything around him covered in them? It made his heart practically jump out of his chest.

Every now and then, he would stick his head out of the tent. He would be greeted with the same forest landscape from before. He started to get frustrated. When was this snow supposed to show up? He started doing mindless tasks to pass the time. He paced, he read scrolls he’s already read, he looked over maps he’s memorized...at some point he decided to lay his head on the desk and shut his tired eyes...just for a little bit…

...That was a mistake. When he opened his eyes again, there was light pouring in through the tent flaps. “Ugh...dammit.” He lifted his head and his back cracked in at least 4 places. Sleeping at a desk, not comfortable at all. And it was especially cold. He got up, turned his torso and stretched his arms above his head. First order of the day, take care of business somewhere private in the woods. He grabs black fur coat (gifted to him by King Dimitri, of course), throws it on, and heads for the tent exit.

When he sticks his head out, he isn’t greeted by the pale blue just before dawn. Nor is he greeted with the morning sun bearing down on everything. Instead, the light that practically blinds his eyes is a bright white light. He has to cover his eyes. This light isn’t like anything he’s encountered before. He sneaks a peek over his gloved hand when the pain subsides, and his jaw drops.

The entire world was covered in white. It looked almost exactly like the picture from all those years ago. White covered the trees, the tents around the camping grounds, everything. And it was terribly cold. When Claude stuck his head out of the tent and let out a breath, it came out like smoke he’d seen come out of so many adults mouths back when he was a child. It made him feel like a dragon. He let out another breath, watching the steam rise from his mouth.

He looked down at the snow at his feet. There were only a few inches at most and there were a few long blades of grass sticking out of the snow, but this was already more than he’d seen in his entire life. It was almost overwhelming, and if he hadn’t seen footprints from hares in the distance breaking the snow layer, he almost wouldn’t even try. It was too pretty.

He took one tentative step out into the snow. The snow crunched underneath his foot. He brought his other foot out, more crunching. It was unlike anything he’d stepped in before. It wasn’t nearly as loose as sand, but it wasn’t as compact and solid as dirt. He took a step forward and looked back at his shallow footprints. He leaned down, dipping his hands into the snow and picking up two handfuls.

The snow in his hands sparkled, reflecting the moonlight and twinkling like tiny stars. Just like when he was a child. His mother hadn’t seen it, but this confirmed without a doubt. It _was_ snowing that night all those years ago. A genuine smile crept onto his face. He felt like a kid again, discovering the wonders of other worlds. He throws the snow into the air above him, watching the tiny stars fall around him.

It’s only as he watched the last pieces of snow fall back to the ground that he remembered why he came out here in the first place. Duty was calling. He walked into the trees, thoroughly enjoying the magical moonlit wonderland he had found himself in.

He had to admit, he had a bit more fun than he should have while he was out there in the wilderness. Something like that shouldn’t have been as fun as it was, but...despite the cold, it brought a smile to his face. And he figured he could play a bit more and enjoy himself after he was done, and that’s exactly what he did.

He studied the trails left by various woodland creatures. He thought about how hard tracking was in dirt and mud. This would make it so much easier. No wonder knights in Faerghus had more fur than even nobles in Leicester. And he practiced what his mother had told him about snow back then. “It doesn’t hurt unless you pack it together and throw it at someone.”

He packed together snowball after snowball and practiced throwing it at trees. He wondered how much it actually hurt. If it was anything like wet sand kids threw at each other in Almyra, it depended on how packed it was. Claude had no one to test it on...at least, not at the moment. He would probably see if he could goad one of the knights into throwing them at each other later.

But mostly, he just admired how pretty everything looked. The trees, the ground, the bushes...it all looked so mystical covered in the blanket of cold. He leaned back against a tree, tilting his head back and forth and watching the undisturbed snow twinkle in the moonlight. He couldn’t pull the smile from his face. He was surrounded...by stars. If staring at stars in the night sky made his problems feel small and insignificant, these stars made them feel non existent.

It was as he was admiring the snow that he heard the snow crunch behind him. He froze, and heard another crunch. It sounded like a footstep. The sounds of nature were muffled by the snow, and every sound was amplified in the quiet. He realized with a shiver that he hadn’t brought any sort of weapon with him.

_Relax, Claude. It’s probably just an animal…_

He takes a deep breath and turns his head just enough to spot the source of the noise in his peripheral vision. All he saw was a large, lumbering, furry creature coming his way. It was covered in white and black fur. A bear? He hadn’t read about any bears in Faerghus...but he also didn’t expect to be facing any wild animals alone and defenseless, and hadn’t read on Faerghus wildlife at all.

He followed his instincts and held completely still. Maybe it hadn’t noticed him, or it’ll lose interest. He held his breath as it came closer and closer. He just focuses on the breath coming out of his mouth. The footsteps stop, and Claude tries to peek at the creature again. It’s when he gets a second look that he notices that this bear has swatches of deep blue and a shock of yellow...wait a minute…

“Claude?”

The deep, familiar voice makes him breath a sigh of relief. It wasn’t a bear. It was just Dimitri. He releases a tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t realized he was holding and turns toward Dimitri.

“Well...what brings you out here so late, your Kinglyness?”

“I could ask you the same thing. It’s quite late.”

“Well, if you gotta know, I originally came out here to take care of business. But when I stepped out, all this white stuff was everywhere. I couldn’t resist playing in it, you know.”

Dimitri looks over Claude, and crosses his arms. “...It doesn’t look like you have a weapon on you. What if an animal saw you as a midnight snack, or someone attempted to assassinate you in the night?”

Claude just lifts his hands at his sides, shrugging. “You know me, I probably would’ve figured something out. But, it’s your turn now. Why are _you_ out here?”

The King of Faerghus turns his head away from Claude. “...It’s the first snow of the season. I like to come out and appreciate it...alone.”

“That’s a likely story, but I find it hard to believe that you woke yourself up just in time to ‘appreciate the snow’.”

Dimitri looks back at Claude. “...I didn’t wake myself up.”

There’s a short awkward pause, and Claude breaks it with a sigh. “Can’t sleep, huh? Been there.”

“I suggest you head back to your tent now, Claude.”

“Hang on. You’re here now, and _you_ have a weapon. I wanna stay out here and appreciate it with you.”

“ _You_ want to appreciate snow?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“...yes. I figured you’d be too busy plotting your schemes or you’d find appreciating nature...I don’t know...a waste of your time.”

Claude gives a dramatic gasp, pressing his hand against his chest. “Your words _wound_ me, your Highness! I know when to appreciate natural beauty when I see it.” Dimitri scoffs and turns his back to Claude. That’s a clear body language cue that means ‘conversation over’. Claude just chuckles. He may be dramatic as a joke, but no one beats Dimitri in legitimate theatrics.

They allow the silence to settle between them, Claude taking back his spot leaning against the tree and looking at the snow twinkle. Maybe it’s the mushy feelings he’s having about the snow and his childhood, or maybe something about Dimitri makes him feel talky, but after a while Claude sighs. “...This is actually my first time seeing this much snow.”

There’s another pause as Dimitri turns his head to catch Claude, bathed in the winter moonlight, leaning against the tree and looking wistful. Claude usually looks like he’s thinking about something else. His mind is always 3 steps ahead, regardless of the situation. But the look on his face at the moment...it was different. He looked lost in memories, something that Dimitri knows all too well. But Claude never discusses his past. “...is it?”

Claude nods. “Where I’m from, it was too warm for snow...and we rarely get cold enough to even justify a fireplace in the Alliance. And you know Garreg Mach is moderate all year. So, no. I’ve never seen snow like this before.” Claude turns his head to give Dimitri a smirk, “Which means, yes. I really _am_ appreciating the snow.”

They lock eyes for only a moment before Dimitri lowers his head to stare at an undisturbed patch of snow. He couldn’t imagine anyone not knowing what snow was. He lived in this winter for most of his years. The cold was practically a part of his past as much as tragedy and tears were. It was like saying you didn’t know what air was. It just...didn’t make sense in his head. Which made perfect sense, since this was coming from Claude. Nothing about Claude made sense in Dimitri’s head. He was a puzzle that Dimitri only had a few pieces to, and not even a picture to try and match.

“...It must’ve been quite a shock to you, then. Stepping out expecting darkness only to find all of this.”

“Oh, it was a surprise, all right.” Claude lifts his head to stare up at the moon. “But it was a good kind of surprise. Honestly, I was hoping that we’d encounter snow while we were up here. So even if this peace meeting turns out to be a bust, I’ll still have crossed _something_ off my goals list.”

The silence falls between them again. Dimitri turns his head to watch Claude. He’s completely off in his own head, it seems. He’s looking all around at the ground, at the trees, at the sky...it reminds Dimitri of the children at Garreg Mach that would watch him whenever he was training. They would look amazed, astounded, _ooh’ing_ and _aah’ing_ whenever Dimitri pulled off a tricky maneuver with his lance. It was almost...mesmerizing watching someone who is as cynical as Claude actually have wonder in his eyes. He found himself appreciating more than the snow that night.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Claude pushes himself off the tree with a yawn. “Alright. I’m ready to turn back in. I’m starting to get a bit chilly.” He steps toward Dimitri, who was staring up at the moon...has he been staring at the moon all night? That couldn’t be good for his one remaining eye… “...you coming with me, your Kinglyness?”

Dimitri sighs, finally lowering his head and looking to Claude. “...Just call me Dimitri, Claude. And...yes. I suppose I can escort you back.”

“Wow, what a gentleman.” He gives an overdramatic bow that he’d seen Lorenz do to too many young women that wanted nothing to do with him and gives Dimitri a wink. “Lead the way... _Dimitri_.”

An odd look crosses the King’s face, but it doesn’t last long. Dimitri walks past him, his cape just barely leaving small prints in the snow. Claude follows behind, mostly watching that and the footprints Dimitri is leaving in his stead. It fascinated him how the snow still sparkled even when it was disturbed.

He looks back up at the back of Dimitri’s head, and couldn’t help but smile again.

He got the feeling he was going to be seeing snow a lot more in his lifetime.


End file.
